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As it turned out, Astarion actually did enjoy cuddling. Sort of. He guessed. But what was more important was that Fenora (Fen, as everyone called them now) liked cuddling, and indulging them meant they were that much more likely to keep him safe from the others. Yes, that was absolutely the only reason he was doing this.
So, here he was, head nestled on Fen's breasts, body held by their delightfully muscled arms. Their hand carded through his hair, gentle as always. Both of them in their underclothes while their other clothing dried, and yet Astarion mostly felt...safe. It was a foreign concept, being held by a half naked person and feeling safe.
Astarion had given them permission to touch his hair after he'd failed to get all the gore out of it earlier. They had somehow ended up fighting Minotaurs roughly twenty feet into the Underdark, and had only won after Fenora had shouted for everyone to run behind them, and fired on some exploding mushrooms. They'd burned themselves terribly while they were at it, and nearly died. Astarion had been furious, but Shadowheart and Lae'zel seemed less upset, so he'd kept it to himself. He'd gone back and stripped off his disgusting clothes and scrubbed himself as clean as he could.
Then Fen had pointed out the remaining goo and viscera, but only from a slight distance, hand hovering a good foot from him as they tried to direct him. It hadn't worked.
"Ugh, are you squeamish all of the sudden? Help me! It's not like I can see for myself!"
Fen'd hesitated. "You told me not to touch your hair."
"What?" Astarion had looked at them, utterly lost. He had absolutely no idea what they were talking about.
"When we first had sex, you told me you didn't want me touching your hair. Is it...is it okay if I touch it now? I'll have to. We may need to rewash it, honestly."
Astarion had just gaped at them briefly. First of all, how in the hells had they even remembered that? The only thing he remembered about that first time in the woods was how utterly glorious they'd felt and how utterly...strange it had all been. Particularly compared to...before. Funny, that was how he thought of his unlife now: before and after Fen.
No, before and after the tadpole. Fenora just...coincided with that.
However, all those wonderful sensations had made it much harder to detach and go somewhere else, which made the whole 'sex' bit of his plan a tad...overwhelming. Luckily for him, Fen seemed quite happy with fairly quick trysts, or none at all, particularly if they felt dirty or the day had simply been very long. It was almost like they knew.
Astarion nearly always initiated, and sometimes they even said no, preferring to simply sit with him while he mended clothing or to sleep next to him. It was a relief, frankly. Confusing, and at first frightening because he'd thought he'd lose their protection (not the case l, it turned out), but a relief nonetheless.
Second of all...'we' might need to rewash his hair? Was Fenora going to help him wash his hair? The thought had filled him with warmth and fear, a strange desire and a mild revulsion. That wouldn't be safe. No one helped him. But...he had half-recalled something from long ago that he couldn't quite grasp the details of, and that something had been pleasant.
"Astarion? Are you alright?" Fen had sounded patient and kind, as always. It had just unsettled Astarion even more.
"Yes, just...just get this disgusting stuff out of my hair! I don't care what you have to do." His words had been snapped out, but they'd obliged him. They'd helped him rewash his hair, and he'd let them. And it had felt so godsdamned good, he'd wanted to cry.
He hadn't, of course, but...it'd been a challenge.
Now, he closed his eyes and nearly purred at the feeling of their fingers running through his hair as they lay together in his tent, propped up on pillows. Fenora kissed the top of his head.
"I've never seen you this relaxed." They nuzzled their face against the crown of his head, undoubtedly ruining his carefully styled hair. Astarion didn't even care.
"I have no idea what you mean, darling. I'm always relaxed."
"You're a pretty bad liar for how often you do it."
Astarion feigned offense with his voice, but didn't move a muscle. He was so warm; Astarion hadn't felt warm in centuries and he was warm at least every few nights. It was absolutely decadent. "How dare you! I prefer the term ‘embellishment,’ thank you very much, and I do it exceedingly well."
"Alright, then you 'embellish,'" they said the word carefully, feeling it, committing it to memory life they did every new word they heard, "pretty bad for someone who does it so often."
Fen's free hand laced with his own. Was this what people felt in all those ridiculous romance novels Dal had snuck into the palace? It certainly seemed like what the books described (Astarion had sometimes been bored and desperate enough to read them). No wonder the characters spent half the damn book holding hands.
Shit.
This was bad.
He wasn't supposed to feel things for Fen other than possibly lust, and ideally not even that. But he trusted them; hells, he even rather liked them despite their whole 'buff, stupid, backwoods hero' schtick. He was still wary of every other person in this damn camp, but not Fen. That was so much worse.
First, it meant they would almost certainly leave because he would almost certainly slip up. He'd do something wrong or they'd find out the extent of what he'd done for Cazador. After spending a year buried alive for disobeying, Astarion had rarely needed to be compelled to hunt for his master (though he nearly always was anyway, because wasn't that crueler? To know he had no agency?); it sickened him even now.
Second, if he cared about something, if he even looked too long at something, Cazador would crush it. No, he would make Astarion crush it. Astarion had fed a kitten he found while out hunting, early in his days as a spawn. It came near the palace tower edge in the lower city, but never inside. Not even close. One day, he returned with a victim for Cazador, and the vampire master had invited him to dine with him as usual, and handed Astarion the kitten. Cazador had forced him to feed on the poor creature after Astarion had refused to do so voluntarily, and then Cazador had Astarion flayed for being disobedient.
It was the last time Astarion remembered crying.
"What's wrong, starshine?" Gods, they were using that pet name. Apparently Astarion's name meant "little star" or something of that nature. And apparently Fenora had somehow found that out and taken it upon themselves to make a cutesy little pet name for him. At least they only used it when the two of them were alone, because Astarion definitely hated it.
It had to be Gale's doing. The damn wizard never shut up and Fen was always so eager to learn from him. Frankly, he had no idea why Gale hadn't made a move already; the man was clearly enamored with Fenora. But noooo, he was content to simply monopolize as much of their time as possible and make moon eyes, as if Fen would respond to anything other than a direct question in that arena.
Gale would constantly pull them away from the task at hand or various chores to discuss some ridiculous thing or show them a magic trick. Fen would follow with that happy, simple look on their face they always got when someone was nice to them, and listen for however long the wizard could talk. Which was just fine with Astarion; less time for him to have to pretend to...whatever he was still pretending. He could do the mending just fine without Fen next to him.
Somehow one of Gale's lectures must have given Fen the knowledge required to create that ridiculous pet name. A ridiculous pet name that he was only tolerating because it made them happy.
"Nothing, darling."
"Astarion, you're scowling." Their voice was flat, clearly uninterested in his bullshit.
He sat up. Fine. They wanted to know what was wrong? He'd tell them.
"You nearly died today because of that stupid stunt with the mushrooms. What in the hells were you thinking?"
"That if I didn't do it, we'd all die?" They asked, confused. "Better one of us than all of us. You could always use a scroll on me. We have some. Or ask Withers. He's a little strange, but he's also, you know, a talking, uh, corpse, and maybe some kind of special undead cleric or something, so that's probably normal for him."
They were right, of course, but their flippant attitude was infuriating. Just...just resurrect them? Just like nothing happened?
"And what if we couldn't? Those scrolls don't always work! What would I do without you?" The question spilled out and Astarion quickly recovered. "To feed on! I can't live on mushrooms."
Fenora tilted their head, as if confused. "There are Druegar down here, and probably Drow somewhere. It would be okay." They seemed to realize something. "Ooooh, you'd miss me! I see. That's really sweet, starshine."
That wasn't it at all. No, because if Astarion would miss them, that meant he cared about them. And if he cared about them, they were a weakness. A weakness Cazador could exploit, even if he couldn't compel or control Astarion like he used to. Astarion knew exactly what that monster was capable of. He couldn't care about them, because it risked everything. This was all just about...about not getting staked! And having help if Cazador came for him!
Gods, that sounded flimsy even in his head.
"What is there to miss, hm? Your ridiculous insistence on wasting our time helping every living thing we encounter? Your stupid pet name and love of just... just sitting together? What even is that? Or hearing you and Gale have your hours-long lectures when I'm trying to get my beauty rest?" He sneered and crossed his arms, but felt himself soften ever so slightly at Fenora's sad puppy look. "Oh, don't look at me that way. Stop!" Their face didn't change.
"Why are you saying that?" Fen looked...oh hells, they looked disappointed and hurt. That was so much worse than anger; why couldn't they just get angry and hit him or leave like they were supposed to? That's what people did!
"Did I do something wrong? Do you not trust me? I mean, that's...I can't make you, but I thought you did. I trust you, or I wouldn't fight with you, or be here with you."
Astarion couldn't meet their eyes as they spoke. Their voice was bad enough.
"No, I...of course I trust you." He felt cowed, as he always did when Fen questioned him like this, voice soft and patient. It was like they knew. Like they knew all his secrets and all the terrible things he had done and that were done to him. He'd never told them much about Cazador, not really. What he did tell them was vague, painted in very broad strokes.
The word 'torture' meant different things to different people, after all. But 'starvation,' 'buried alive,' 'rape,' and 'flayed skin' left little to the imagination. So Astarion used 'torture' and 'sadistic' because he didn't really want Fen to know. He was ashamed and embarrassed about what he'd put up with, at how often compulsion hadn't been required for acts he loathed because he was scared of more punishment. He decided to wait for Fenora to speak; for once he wasn't sure what to say.
"I'd miss you too, you know. I like you, even though you try to be as unlikable as possible. I saw you petting the owlbear cub the other night, you big softie. Hmmm, I should see if he has a name, or if he wants one." Fen's voice was friendly and earnest, and Astarion narrowed his eyes. He'd been sure everyone was asleep when he went to pet that damn bird-bear. He thought about denying it, but he'd already been caught lying twice. Only an idiot keeps going at that point.
Fen spent some time considering the proposal of naming the cub, presumably, before their eyes returned to him.
"Look, I don't know what exactly happened to you with Cazador, but I can...make an...educated guess." Fen's voice was soft and sad. Astarion frowned. He didn't like the way they said that; they made it sound like that education had been first hand.
They continued. "It's okay that you don't want to feel stuff like this; I understand. But don't take it out on me, and don't lie to me about what's going on."
Gods, why did they have to be so damn reasonable all the time? Couldn't they just slap him or yell at him or ignore him like a normal person? It was so hard to keep any kind of resentment or anger when they just 'offered a compromise' or 'saw deep inside him and knew exactly what he was thinking without using the tadpole.' Astarion pouted but ultimately acquiesced. Damn them for being so...well, he wasn't really sure but he did always seem to go along with what they wanted. Convincing? Correct?
"Fine. I didn't want you to die because I'd miss you. Happy?" He laid his head back down on their chest, "Now keep playing with my hair; it feels good." His voice got quieter and noticeably less agitated as he spoke, despite his best efforts to seem aloof.
"As you wish, Lord Astarion." He could hear the smile on Fen's face, and chose to ignore it. He really should be a lord by now anyway. He should be a lot of things, but instead he was just a vampire spawn, small and powerless.
Astarion was quiet, relaxing once again and enjoying the light pressure of Fenora's fingers against his scalp. This was...nice. Fen's warm body and gentle touch were different enough from the feeling of sitting at Cazador's feet that he wasn't pulled back. This wasn't the cold, undead fingers and sharp nails dragging and pulling, taking joy only from Astarion's pain and humiliation. This was Fen's warm skin and gentle breathing and steady heartbeat, and their affection. Astarion wondered if those little caterpillars he'd seen in the upper city gardens felt this way in their cocoons.
"I promise to be more careful, starshine." Fen's lips brushed the top of his head. "I won't leave you alone, not if I can avoid it."
How did they always seem to know what to say? It was infuriating. Oh, certainly Astarion always knew what to say when it came to a handful of situations, generally seduction, but that was because most people were simple, especially regarding sex. But this... Astarion never told people the whole truth and yet this feral idiot always seemed to suss out exactly what he was feeling.
No, not an idiot. He knew very well that Fenora just hadn't had the chance to learn. They were embarrassed about it, but their reading had improved quite a bit in the last few weeks. Astarion was even starting to enjoy their little reading lessons. It made him feel...smart? Powerful? No, that wasn't right.
Valued? Trusted?
He decided it was best to drop that line if thinking.
"I do appreciate the thought, pet. I can't have my supply of blood and sex dying on me; this whole de-tadpoling adventure would be dreadfully boring without you around." Astarion stretched up and kissed their jaw, then their neck. They smelled delicious, orange peel oil mixed with their natural scent, something vaguely like the outdoors, with an undercurrent of their metallic, healthy blood.
Astarion felt the thrum of arousal suddenly, somewhat to his surprise. Not that he wasn't attracted to Fenora, and he supposed they were nearly naked, but it was just...well, he was pretty sure he'd been turned on consciously more in the last month or so than he had been in the last hundred years. Of course, he supposed this was very different from the last hundred years, but...still. It was all a bit confusing.
It was truly unfair how easily Fen's closeness did this to him, and knowing he could have the desire for blood and sex sated at once made it that much harder to ignore. The blood drinking was so sensual; he'd never really expected that, having only fed on rats, and never enough to feel full. Nothing appetizing or sensual about rodents. But this was different, obviously. Wasn’t that the theme of the day? Everything was different with Fen and he hated it. Sort of.
It was even more frustrating when he knew that sex with Fen would be...well, he'd be so present, and it was confusing and overwhelming. He still felt the familiar pangs of disgust sometimes, almost on reflex, thinking about how many times he'd gotten on his back for crumbs. But what Fen offered wasn't just crumbs and remnants. They offered him a feast of affection and tenderness, and they offered it all the time. Astarion didn't have to perform anything to receive a soft kiss or a gentle squeeze of his hand. Blood and comfort were offered freely, though of course Fenora was mindful of their limits regarding the blood (as was Astarion). And that just made everything worse! Nothing they did fit into the categories in his mind, and it made everything feel all the time. Even when he was achingly hard, sometimes the idea of seeking Fenora out was just too much.
He could always stop, he supposed; Fenora was constantly saying they could stop whenever he wanted, whenever they wanted, it wasn't a problem, yadda yadda. But Astarion didn't really feel like he could say no, no matter how many times they said he could and should. The concept of his body being his own to control was... novel. Strange. It had belonged to Cazador longer than it had ever belonged to Astarion. What other purpose did he serve, really, than to provide someone else pleasure? Astarion looked the part, after all, so why say no to what he was clearly meant to do? So far, he'd relied very heavily on Fen simply...knowing, and saying 'no' or 'stop' for him.
Before, the idea of feeling safe and aroused at the same time was laughable. He felt nothing, usually, when he seduced his victims. He rarely even got off from it, he was so detached and empty; he avoided having anyone he lured touch him if he could. The whole process disgusted him, and denying himself gave him a modicum of control. As far as other situations, generally designed to humiliate him for Cazador's amusement, well...those were better ignored and shoved back into a nice, dark corner of his mind, never to be thought of again.
And the idea of feeling safety by itself at any point in the last 200 years was inconceivable. He hadn't even been sure what he'd been feeling at first, the concept was so foreign. He'd just felt...warm.
Astarion kissed Fen's neck again, shifting and moving his body up theirs for better access to their delicious skin. Fenora let out a soft sigh, the fingers they had in Astarion's hair moving down his neck to his back. They moved slightly to better bare their throat to him. Gods, how had he gotten so lucky?
"Are you hungry?" They asked, voice just a bit breathy, as Astarion continued to lick and kiss and nip their neck. Fen shifted, brushing against Astarion's quickly hardening cock, and he let out the smallest sound of pleasure.
"Starved, pet, in more ways than one." Astarion nipped at their ear, before taking their mouth with his own.
Kissing them was magnificent. Their lips were plush and soft despite their time spent outdoors. Fen would kiss him gently sometimes, never asking for anything, and other times kiss him like he was their only source of air. They often nicked their skin on his fangs, far too often to be an accident, and the taste of their mouth mixed with their blood was transcendent. Delicious.
Fen's other hand came up to his chest, running over his shoulder and down his arm to hold his other hand. It was so careful and so...well, if Astarion could remember what a loving touch felt like, he might have called it that.
But he couldn't remember. All he could remember were the thousands of people he'd seduced for Cazador, an endless stream of half remembered faces that he'd pleasured and led to their deaths to avoid his own suffering. But it hadn't really worked, had it? He was still suffering now, seeing their accusing looks, the betrayal in their eyes when Cazador had entered and flashed his fangs before offering Astarion a rat as payment. All he knew was meaningless touch with the occasional indulgence of someone who didn't disgust him. Then he simply disgusted himself.
Why did this keep happening? Cazador wasn't here; he didn't have any power over Astarion anymore. After 200 years of shit, pure shit, at that sadist's hands, Astarion still wasn't free. He couldn't even enjoy time with the person he lo-
No. Nooooo, no, no. Astarion was not going there. This, whatever it was, was not going there. It wasn't safe anymore, not if he felt things. That made him weak; it made Fen a target. Cazador would kill them, would make Astarion do it. It was dangerous, he was in danger, Fen was in danger, it-
"Astarion, are you okay?" Gentle, calloused hands on his face. Warm and careful. Fenora.
Thoughts of Cazador fled his mind; Fenora's touch was the antithesis of his former master's. They were warm, physically, unlike the vampire lord, and so very careful with Astarion. The softness was never followed by a strike, by torture. There was nothing to follow it but more of the same gentleness. It felt so unreal.
"Of course, darling, how could anything be amiss when I have such a beauty underneath me?" Astarion's voice wasn't as smooth as he'd hoped.
Fen's demeanor changed, somehow almost romantic, comforting and sweet. They kissed his forehead, his eyelids, his lips, and Astarion felt his muscles relax. He hadn't even realized he'd tensed. They nuzzled their nose against his before kissing him again, still soft and without expectation.
"That's better, starshine." Why did that stupid, stupid name make him feel so...so godsdamned special?
"You're here with me. See?" Fen guided his hands, one to their waist and the other to their hair. Astarion let himself relax on top of them, fingers pressing into flesh and tangling tightly in hair, as he nuzzled into their neck again. He was clinging, seeking comfort like a child after a nightmare, and the idea of feeding sounded so soothing. He really was hungry; he was always hungry.
"Feed, if you're hungry. You know I like it, and you seem like you need it."
Gods, did he know they liked it; he could feel their body responding in the way their pulse quickened and their breathing got shallow. Sometimes, Astarion would perch in their lap while he fed, Fen sitting against a wall. Then he'd feel their hard nipples pressing against his chest as they arched into him, pulling his hips closer to their own. Astarion loved feeding from them. It was one thing to drink the blood of a thinking creature, already so much better than being half starved and sustained on the fetid blood of dead rats. But to feed from a thinking creature that gave willingly? That...cared about you, or at the very least pretended to? That you, maybe, kind of, only a little, also cared about (or pretended to)? It was an intimacy Astarion struggled to describe. It was an intimacy that had been denied to him for two centuries, like so many others.
The thought angered him. Fuck Cazador. Fuck all the years Astarion had been forced to waste because of that monster, fuck all the terrible things he'd been made to do. He wouldn't ruin this, too, at least...not today. Not right now.
"Only if I can take your beautiful body while I do." He licked their ear, and they shuddered. "What do you say, pet? Would you like that?" The quick twitch of Fen's hips answered before they could.
"Yes, please." They breathed the answer against his ear. Astarion moved his hand between their thighs and toyed with them, running his fingers over their folds through the thin fabric of their underclothes. He could feel the wet heat of their sex through the light cotton, cloth damp already, and growled.
"Oh pet, you're very worked up."
Fen arched into his hand, grinding against his palm. Astarion took a hissing breath as their hips pressed against his cock, already hard and sensitive. He could almost taste their blood on his lips, almost feel the warm, silky walls of their cunt against his length. He loved the sounds they made, the way they writhed under his lips and hands.
"I want you so bad, Astarion." Fenora kissed him, frantic and needy, cutting open their bottom lip on his fangs in their haste. There was a gush of blood and Astarion moaned into their mouth.
The fingers that teased them slipped beneath their underclothes to trace the entrance of their pussy, covered in slick. Astarion had barely touched them, simply kissed and teased, and if he were to slip his fingers into them, even his cock, they'd take him without fuss. He felt his length twitch at the the thought of fucking them, of being buried inside them and licking blood from their neck while they cried out. Gods, the thought was glorious.
Fen responded to him so strongly, even knowing what he was and at least some of what he'd done, that Astarion was sure it was some kind of mistake. A sweet, good-natured thing like Fen should hate him. Instead, they sat with him and practiced their letters and numbers, too embarrassed by the depth of their educational failings to let anyone else know the extent. They defended him when Wyll made jokes about his "rat diet" (though he supposed they also defended Wyll if anyone got too rude). They slept with and next to Astarion as it pleased the two of them.
And now, gods now, Astarion was surrounded by their whimpers and gasps, by the scent of orange peel and sunlight and sweat and slick. He felt their hand wrap around his cock and stroke and he whined in pleasure. He plunged two fingers into their cunt and rubbed his thumb against their clit, rougher than he intended. But Fen whined and gasped in pleasure, and stroked him faster, harder. Astarion growled and tugged their face to his, devouring their mouth so hungrily he wasn't sure it could be called a kiss. He shouldn't be so careless, so open but oh, Fenora seemed to like it, free hand clawing to bring him closer. A greedy little thing, and perhaps less sweet than he had thought.
With a gasp, Fen pulled away and let go of his shaft (much to Astarion's displeasure), and rolled him onto his back, but... slowly, so slowly he knew what was happening, pulling off what little they still had on frantically. Astarion smirked as the ranger's hands grabbed at his underclothes, tugging lightly. They looked up at him, a pleading look on their face, hips wiggling slightly in anticipation. Oh, he liked this. This was fun.
Fen knew him, and he knew them. They cared for him at least physically (his health, his safety if nothing else), they protected him, and he did his best to protect them. The connection was deeper and their desire felt like so much more than any of his victims, even the ones he had liked, had chosen in a selfish bid to feel something. Fen was so pleased, so excited every time to be here with him. If they had been doing anything else it would seem almost innocent.
But instead they were licking their lips, pupils blown and energy so eager it bordered on agitated as they hovered over his cock before nuzzling it. They wanted to give him this so very, very badly, and it suddenly drove him utterly mad.
"Can I? Please?"
Astarion propped himself up on one elbow, and reached to cup Fenora's face, stroking their cheek with his thumb.
"Of course, my sweet. How could I deny you when you ask so prettily?"
Fen had the eager, almost silly look that always graced their face when they got something they really wanted. Sometimes it was a weapon or armor, other times a dish they liked. This time, it was Astarion, and that...well, that he rather liked.
Had anyone ever looked at him that way? Like he was the present they never thought they'd receive for their birthday? With a sort of reverence and jubilance that couldn't be written off as lust? It wasn't how you looked at someone across a tavern, certainly. It was...he wasn't really sure. It was almost how he imagined one might look after hearing "yes" to a proposal of marriage.
Except this was sex.
Well, he was very pretty; maybe it was just as exciting?
Fen finished undressing him, and he sighed with relief, cock already sensitive and aching at the thought of their touch. They settled again between his legs, kissing his knees, his thighs, his balls, his hard length and tip, beaded with precum. Astarion bit his lip, not wanting to whimper at the utter ecstasy of their touch. He didn't want to seem weak or submissive or...or something. Sometimes Astarion couldn't take it, the focus on him and his enjoyment. It was too...intimate, too revealing. He preferred them to be the focus of his intentions, because he did enjoy the way they would squirm and whine and moan.
But also because it was so hard to change how he thought about sex. It was a hunt, a fight, a way to reduce his pain, a compulsion he quite literally couldn't deny. The only control he had was to deny himself pleasure, to deny his partner that intimacy. It was protective. If only they experienced pleasure, at least he had given them something before the end, and they had given him nothing. He had revealed nothing, and lost nothing more of himself than he already had. In theory.
But he wanted this. He wanted this so badly. He liked Fenora, when they weren't being too naïve. And maybe even a little when they were. Gods, and they were stunning.
So he grasped their hair and smiled at them when they looked up, because this was his choice. He was in control, and Fen did look so very lovely when they sucked his cock.
Fen smiled back, licking his length, teasing him, nearly drooling by the time they finally took him in their mouth, suddenly and all the way to their throat. A happy moan vibrated through them and Astarion groaned. Fenora sucked as they worked his cock, hands teasing and stroking while their mouth, hot and wet and eager, moved up and down. How could he say no? Why would he? It was different, he knew that, it was so different, and he wanted this, he adored this. But...gods, he couldn’t...he didn’t want to finish this way. He'd already admitted he'd miss them and then to do this, to be... vulnerable like this as well.
Some part of him knew he was broken.
"Pet," Astarion began, the word a whine, his nails biting into his palm on the hand that wasn't in Fen's hair. It so frustrating. It felt so good, and Fenora was so perfect and he just...couldn't. He wanted to so badly and he couldn't. He took a breath, voice steadier. "Fen."
Fenora immediately stopped, gods bless them. They were off him, kneeling between his legs with their hands in their lap. It was almost jarring how quickly they could change tack like that. It made Astarion wonder if they were actually enjoying themselves, or if they went far away too.
"What's wrong, sweet one?" Their voice wasn't angry, or upset, or put off. It never was. If anything, it was a little ragged from desire and...full of care. His sweet ranger.
Astarion sat up, a half smile tugging at his lips. He kissed them, hard and needy, hands grasping their face. Better. This was better. Now they were on equal ground and he could just think about lust and pleasure. Not that it was terribly difficult; his cock stood flushed and dripping between his legs. It was all he could do not to whine at the thought of their beautiful pussy. But Fen was still careful, only placing their hands on his own for balance as he pushed them onto their back.
"Nothing, pet, I just couldn't wait to have you any longer." His voice came out admirably smooth, and he pressed them onto their back.
Astarion buried his face in their neck again, rubbing his length against the wet heat between their thighs. He bit back a moan that became instead a whimper, which was almost worse. Gods, he wanted them. He wanted them on his cock and under his fangs and moaning from pleasure until it echoed off the temple walls. Fuck the rest of the camp. Fuck Cazador. Fuck all the terrible, horrible things that were pushing into his mind all the time when all he wanted was just to be normal.
He wanted to fuck and be fucked and revel in debauchery and lust and desire without ever thinking of anything but pleasure. He wanted to have fun! Didn't he deserve that after all this...this shit! And, for some reason, he wanted to do all of it with them.
"Still good?" Fenora was nearly panting beneath him, hips moving in time with his, their words strained. Oh, they were trying so very hard to be good, to be careful, but he could see the threads snapping, and he rather liked it.
"Perfect, my sweet." He grabbed their calf, kissed the inside of their ankle as he rested it on his shoulder, lining himself up before grabbing their hips and hilting himself in them in a single stroke.
Astarion smirked (or, he intended to, did he? Did it even matter? Gods, this felt amazing) as Fen’s eyelids fluttered, their back arched, and they let out the most wanton, greedy moan he had ever heard. He'd get shit about this from Wyll and Gale tomorrow for sure (the women of the camp rarely said anything, except Shadowheart, though he occasionally caught looks that let him know they heard), and Astarion was utterly delighted at the thought of their jealous grousing.
Did Astarion make a noise? He realized he had no idea. That wasn't important. What was important was making sure Fen knew exactly how much he liked this. His hands ran up and down their sides, savoring the sensation of their warm, soft skin.
"You feel amazing, pet. I could stay like this all night." He purred, and Fen pulled him down for a kiss, whining into his mouth. So very flexible, his ranger.
Fenora was his, for the moment, and he let the sensations wash over him, nearly overwhelming him. His ranger rocked their hips against him slightly, trying to urge him to move, the friction making them moan. Astarion felt the tight grip of their cunt, the softness of their breasts, the rough tips of their fingers on his skin, their plush lips and wet tongue teasing the shell of his ear. Gods, it was perfect. They were perfect, every time. He wanted to keep them forever.
A cold hand runs down his cheek and suddenly slaps him, grabbing his face with bruising force.
You're mine, boy, forever. Never forget who owns you.
Astarion felt bile rising in his throat, or whatever vampires had in its place. He was nothing like him. Nothing! He gripped Fenora tighter, and buried his face in their neck, feeling the warmth. Cazador would not ruin this too. There was a slight tremble in his hands as he tried to stay here. He wanted to laugh. When had he ever wanted to stay present during sex?
Fenora must have felt his shakiness, because their movements stopped, and their hand pulled one of his off their waist.
"Starshine, are you okay?" That stupid name again, but gods, it was so much better than 'boy.' By Elvhen standards he'd been barely out of boyhood when he was turned, and Cazador loved to remind him. He took a breath.
But Fenora said his pet name with such care, like it held all the warmth they'd ever wanted to convey to him. They kissed his still-trembling hand. For once, he didn't want this to stop. He wanted to burn all the memories of Cazador to ash with the heat and affection in Fenora's gaze and touch.
"Just...just hungry, pet. The fighting took it out of me." He couldn't tell them the truth. He could barely tell himself.
Fenora gave him a confused smile, and bared their neck. "Then feed, starshine. All you have to do is ask."
Astarion didn't need to be told twice. He sank his fangs into Fenora's neck, letting their leg drop from his grasp, and drank as they moved artlessly, desperately on his cock, a high pitched cry of pleasure leaving their lips. Once he was sure he had a good angle to feed, he moved his hands to their hips, lifting and steadying them, and began to thrust, trying so very hard to be slower and gentler than he wanted. Gods, it was even better the second time he entered them, the third. How was that even possible? Did that...did that happen? And their blood was like the best bourbon he had ever tasted, the kind he could barely afford and ordered only the smallest glasses of to impress patriars.
Even better, even sweeter, because they responded so deliciously, so eagerly, past caring about making noise. Soon they were whining his name once again. Their panted whimpers were like a song, set to the drumbeat of their pulse in his ears as he fed.
"Gods, you're delicious." Astarion nearly moaned the phrase against their skin. They felt so good, right and safe and warm, and he hated them for it, or maybe he loved them. He didn't know, and he didn't care, he just needed this to end and go on forever.
He licked the bite marks roughly as Fenora gripped his shoulder in one hand, and held his head to their neck with the other. A wicked, wanton little thing, weren't they, deep down? Maybe that's what Astarion liked about them. He snaked his fingers between their bodies, teasing Fen's clit as he drove into them, hard and fast and desperate to feel something and nothing and everything.
"Astarion, I'm so close, don't stop." His name came out a whine from Fen's lips, and he bit down harder without thinking as Fenora pressed his face firmly into their neck. Gods, he would come before they did at this rate, but they felt so good. Astarion couldn't think of any other words, but gods below, the way their pussy fluttered and tightened around his cock as they got close, the feel of their breasts against his chest and their fingers gripped his hair and-
Oh, the sounds they made when they came. That was music if he had ever heard it.
Fen's moan went up an octave as he felt their beautiful cunt grip him, and the sound soon became a breathy whimper and then panted gasps as Astarion slowed his touch, lapping at the jagged bite wounds as he did. Their blood was delicious on his tongue, their peak making it sweeter somehow. It was too much, so much, it felt like nothing he'd ever experienced but he always thought that with them; it was always new and strange and wonderful. All the sensations and sounds wove together in a chorus of pleasure as he felt his own body pull taught as the strings on a violin and by the hells, he couldn't-
"Shit!" He hissed, and he felt himself come, fast and hard, hips bucking without rhythm or tempo, seeking more, though he had no idea of what. Blood dripped down his chin as he realized he'd made a new mark (fuck, when had he done that?). But it was done and as he spent himself inside Fen he kept drinking, kept trying to feed the darkness inside him with any light they offered.
As his mind came back to him, he let himself relax onto Fen, who wrapped an arm around him, fingers in his hair, kissing the side of his face.
"Mmmm," was all he heard from them, eyes half lidded and head lolling back onto one of the many pillows in his tent. Shit. That probably wasn't a good thing; had he taken too much? A quick check of their pulse told him they were healthy, just very relaxed. Thank the gods. Sometimes, Astarion still worried he'd lose control and hurt them, in his hunger. Without...someone else to control him.
A gentle caress.
You need me, boy. You're little better than an animal. Where would you be if I didn't take you under my wing, hmmm? Feeding on every pretty thing you saw? Killing and slaughtering until the sun burnt you?
A slap.
"I take it you enjoyed yourself, my sweet?" He purred the question in their ear, and felt them shiver slightly. They curled further around him, a leg wrapping around his.
"Uh-huh." Astarion rather liked it when he left them speechless, snuggly, and sleepy. They nuzzled his face, kissing his cheek again. "Lots."
Prior to Fen, Astarion would have laughed in the face of anyone who suggested that not only would he have sex with someone of his own free will (when had that happened in the last 200 years?), but he'd absolutely love it and he'd want them to stay afterwards. The concept was entirely alien.
Now he was quite content with Fenora against him and even looking for a blanket to throw over the two of them so they'd stay right here with him tonight. Ah, there it was. A quick tug and he at least got their lower halves covered, and settled in to Fen's chest.
Ugh, gods, what was he doing? He was nearly as bad as Gale. At least he hadn't resorted to courtly dancing and poetry like the "Blade of Frontiers." He had to get away from all these romantic saps; he was going soft.
They laid like that for some time, Astarion basking in the safe, warm touch. Fen continued to play with his hair, which must look an absolute mess. He'd have to have their help fixing it in the morning. At least the tadpole could show him what it looked like. He was quite good at styling by feel after all these years without the aid of a mirror, but it didn't mean he enjoyed it.
"Hey starshine, you know...you know you can always, always tell me no, right?"
Not this again. Gods, they always brought this up when he hesitated.
When they ended up saying 'no,' or 'stop,' or 'wait' for him.
"Why would I ever tell you no, darling? You're remarkably talented for someone who lived in the woods for a hundred years."
Fen laughed a little. "Because my 'talent' has nothing to do with it. I could be the greatest lay in Faerûn, and you could tell me to jump off a cliff and swim out to sea. And I would." They paused. "Well, not really, I don't swim that well, and I'd break an arm when I hit the water if the cliff was too high, but-"
"Yes, yes, you would 'metaphorically' jump off a cliff. That's the word you're looking for. It means you would do something in spirit, but not in reality."
"Oh! Then yeah, I'd metaphorically," they said the word carefully, testing it out in their mouth. Astarion smiled, genuinely, enjoying seeing them learn things from him. Things that weren't even crimes, at that! Though they had definitely also learned crimes; gods, was he ever good at crimes. "Jump off a cliff and swim out to sea."
"Pet, why do you always bring this up? It rather ruins the mood." Astarion was trying to be light, but the words sounded more sour than he intended. He didn't move from their chest, though. He liked hearing their heartbeat under his ear; he could almost feel it reverberate inside himself.
"Because you wanted to say...something, maybe 'stop,' and you didn't." Fen's fingers were still running through his hair. Oh, that was lovely, so very soothing, almost so soothing he could ignore what they were saying. If Astarion was a vampire lord, he'd make someone do this all the time.
"You got closer to saying it this time, though. You said my name. If you want, you can just use my name to mean stop." Well that idea was just terrible, even by Fenora's standards.
"Why in the hells would I want to associate your name with not having sex?"
"I don't know. Why can't you just tell me to stop when you get... overstimulated? Overwhelmed?" Shit. That was the question of the hour, wasn't it?
They continued. "I can't quite tell what happens, but it's like when you pet a cat and then they want you to stop. It seems sudden unless you're really paying attention. And I really, really try to pay attention, but sometimes I miss it." Best to deny this, really. They were far too good at reading him and it was honestly getting a tad disturbing.
"I have no-" Fen cut him off.
"I swear to all the gods, Astarion, if you say you have no idea what I'm talking about, I will punch you." Fen's face was so incredibly pissed off looking that Astarion burst out in an awkward laugh.
"Yes, well...that really would ruin the mood, wouldn't it?"
"Yeah, it would. I'm really comfortable." Fen wiggled contentedly, snuggling closer, if that was possible. They sighed. "Look, whatever you think is going to happen if you say no, or stop, or that you'd rather have sex with a cabbage than me today-"
"That is never going to be said, but I applaud your creativity."
Fen smiled. "Thank you. Anyway, whatever you think, all that's going to happen is that we stop. I don't want to touch you if you don't want to be touched." They cocked their head and tilted his up, meeting his eyes. "Ever, starshine. I don't want to... that's...that's never okay. Don't make me do that to you. I couldn't live with myself knowing I'd done that, please."
Astarion blinked, confused. They looked genuinely upset at the idea of using him. Well that couldn't be right, everyone wanted to use people for their own ends, and Astarion's best use was always sex. He was pretty, and people wanted to fuck him. What else was his body good for? Even before he had died, he vaguely remembered being beautiful, and people wanting him for it.
At least you can get my dinner here with little fuss, boy, pretty as you are. It's unfortunate whoring is your only skill. Perhaps the next spawn will prove more...versatile.
Fen was watching him, but he couldn't think what to say. His mind was blank save for Cazador's disdain, insults playing on a loop.
"Fine. Fine just...just stop talking about it!" Astarion pulled back from them, but started to calm, taking deep breaths. No. Cazador wasn't going to ruin this. That godsdamn sadistic son of a bitch was not going to ruin this. "I'll do my best, as long as you promise the same."
"Of course." Fen grinned. "Now, lay back down so I can keep petting your head like the grumpy cat you are. I can tell you're enjoying it."
"I'm not grumpy." Astarion huffed, but settled back into their chest. "And it can't be helped that cats happen to have enough discernment to like some of the same things I do."
"Uh-huh. Tell me, when we get back on the surface, are you gonna stretch out in a sun puddle and whine until I let you feed? Then curl up and take a nap?"
Well-
So-
Alright, Astarion had been fantasizing about that exact scenario since they got into the Underdark but they didn't have to be so godsdamned smug about it.
"I hate you."
Fen kissed his forehead anyway, and Astarion thought maybe he would keep them around when this was all over.
Maybe.
Probably.